


Until My Circuts Wear

by TempusNoKitsune



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: C-3PO is kind of clueless, Fluff, I didn't mean for it to be sad, I'm Sorry, It got kind of sad, M/M, Made For Each Other, Other, R2 has never had a memory wipe, R2 is increadibly experienced, SO MUCH FLUFF, So Married, Their Love Is So, droidhusbands, he means well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempusNoKitsune/pseuds/TempusNoKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how it looked, or what they said, something pulled them together. Akin to an invisible lifeline, they were each tied to the other. Fates intertwined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until My Circuts Wear

R2 glided slowly against the metal floor, wheels pushing down for extra traction against the polished surface. The hall was buzzing with life. Organic mostly. People in uniforms rushed all around him, some just barely missing tumbling over the short droid in their haste. A blaring alarm was echoing through the corridors, though the sound was dull to the astromech, just another addition to the chorus of chaos filling the base.

The fight never stopped, the war never ended. R2-D2 had been around for a long time, long enough to have seen the tiny spark which blows up into a blazing fire turn after turn, defeat after defeat, on both sides. There was never a truly complete person which landed wholesomely on one side, and yet, each opposing group could not understand the other. Organics were incredibly strange. Though perhaps his pool of research had been limited.

R2 was an astromech, a mechanic, it was not his job, interest, nor place for the habitual study of organic beings. His counterpart, on the other hand, was a different matter. Though a protocol droid was often used simply for etiquette and translations, one as highly esteemed by service, and with as much experience as C-3PO, could hardly help the superfluous flow of organic based information which filled his memory banks. As of late the golden droid had hardly left the base centre, tottering along the General’s side as each slide of untranslated script flowed over illuminated panels. 

Though, R2 thought as he crossed the threshold of the main quarters with a minimal amount of rattling to his casing despite the rather large bump separating the different wings, 3PO had hardly changed in regards to attitude. Even now he could pick out the familiar drone of a robotically tinged voice, pulling out words in an overly formal manner and tone. The astromech could feel his circuits warm pleasantly at the familiar sound, his dome rotating once with a short string of binary alerting those in the near vicinity to his presence.

No one particularly minded the fact that R2 basically did whatever he pleased. It was a sort-of standard set almost immediately with his awakening due to the way in which he was treated by the General herself. The old astromech sometimes still found it strange, something within him setting off an uncomfortable buzz, to think that it had been so long since his first meeting with the princess. Since the last time he had seen Luke.

“My, R2! Come look at this.” The mechanical whir of the protocol droids systems was audible as he offhandedly beckoned to the droid, seemingly enticed by the jumbled up display of figures in front of him despite the fact that he had called out to the astromech. “See there? Masters Luke and Rey are in the Yavin system. Oh, I do hope they are careful. One never knows what sorts hang around those places. Especially knowing of the resistance’s history there. They could be in great danger.”

R2 briefly wondered what it was that plagued C-3PO’s conscious-units. He would bet that the words, “We’re doomed”, were stuck on eternal repeat. He rolled a little less than softly, because when had R2 ever done anything softly (Maker knows that would be the day when 3PO’s fears were confirmed -something that didn’t bother R2 in the slightest, he wasn’t built to be gentle), into one of 3PO’s legs. The droid wavered for a moment, one in which R2 was sure that had the other had more function in the mobility of his face plate, would have been filled by a glare down at the smaller droid.

“What is it you insufferable little bucket of bolts?” He may have sounded irritated, a usual synthetic emotion utilized in R2’s presence, but the astromech could just barely make out the gentle touch of a semi-bent hand on the crest of his dome.

If R2 could have smirked he would have. No matter how it looked, or what they said, something pulled them together. Akin to an invisible lifeline, they were each tied to the other. Fates intertwined. This also meant, however, that there was a deviation from themselves and other droids. One unit did not get attached to the other, but R2 was fairly sure that he would do most anything to stay by the protocol droid’s side. Something the astromech would never admit out loud, and was glad for the variant pattern of mechanical thought so that no other being would know lest it came straight from him.

R2 moved backwards, slowly turning and rolling back out of the room. A short series of contented, perhaps a bit cocky and smart aleck-y, beeps bounced off of curved walls as 3PO followed after him. Despite the droid’s sounding protests, the click of metal feet never faded, constant in the uneven pattern of his counterparts stride. When the short droid stopped suddenly it was obvious that 3PO had not been paying all that much attention to where they had been going, as the taller droid nearly tumbled right over R2’s form.

3PO let out a short sound of surprise, and there was little doubt in R2’s conscious mind that the other was preparing a rather long and whine laced lecture when the astromech pointed out the miraculous view in front of them. The two stood alone in a small room, one that was seemingly useless as made clear by the lack of anything but common walls and a large centre window. The protocol droid straightened as his face turned towards the glass in front of them. The universe stretched infinitely on, stars littering the elegant expanse of silky black atmosphere, a thin line of shining dust twisting and turning among the stars.

There was the quiet chink of metal on metal as C-3PO’s hand came down on R2’s dome. “My, I wonder if the General knows of this room. She was speaking earlier of needing another space for-”

R2 beeped. The series of noises were laced with as much exasperation as he could get across. 

“Well it’s not my function, nor yours for that matter, to be marveling at stars. It’s of no use to us R2, though the space is much needed in a time like this. Honestly, you would think that a droid with as much experience as you would know such a thing.”

The astromech let out a string of indignant beeps. The purpose wasn’t to have a purpose, it was to let go, and to use their embedded circuitry to appreciate the lives that have been given to them. 3PO was a fool not to see that, always thinking with his programmed function, and never with the conscious unit he was granted as a complete courtesy to his being. R2 spun his head to observe the other droid, two shining eyes still gazing directly out of the clear panel before them. 

3PO was dense. He meant well, but the younger droid was oblivious to the world around him. R2 saw this time as a fit one to teach him of the wonders that surrounded him. Why? Simply because he felt as though it was the droid’s right, and R2 had suddenly felt very alone. Never having a memory wipe had left R2 was numerous turns to develop a personality, a sense of self, and experiences that most other beings could only dream of. If there was a planet out there, R2 had been to it. If there was a star out there R2 had seen it. If there was a being out there, it was likely that R2 had, and would, watch them die.

“I suppose you are correct though. The universe is quite a sight to be seen.”

R2 cooed. If only the protocol droid could get that picture more than once. If he could, figuratively of course, open his eyes much further than he already had. The golden droid turned to look down at him.

“Why is it that you must take my valuable time on your foolish whims?”

He turned his head, visual sensor taking in the scene before him while making space for the memory in his data banks. He let out a soft string of binary, the “words” matter-of-fact as they hung in the stale air between them. 

_ I have to share them with someone, and I’d prefer if it were you. _

“Why me?”

R2 half expected the usual chiding for his behavior, but was instead met by a soft, fond curiosity.

_ Because you’re my other half.  _ The words were something that he had not expected from himself. Though they were true, it was something he would be hard tried to admit- but as he thought of each time they had both been so close to losing one another, and on to the times in which such things would most likely happen again, the words slipped out. R2 was not a sentimental being. He was not programmed to be such a thing, but after all of this time, R2 hardly found the idea of programming to be something which made any difference in his life.

“And you are mine.”

Silence fell over the room. Comfortable, but heavy with their words. Yes, their relationship was an oddity. But R2 couldn’t bring himself to care.

**Author's Note:**

> These two are just the most amazing  
> C-3PO is also my favourite character so...  
> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> ~Castor


End file.
